


No One Keeping Me Honest

by aliatori



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BDSM, Breathplay, Come Eating, Impact Play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, and a lil feelings too because you know me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 04:31:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliatori/pseuds/aliatori
Summary: Gladio and Ignis attend a 'meeting' with Noctis.





	No One Keeping Me Honest

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [@UnsteadyGenius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsteadygenius) for brainstorming this fic with me and giving this a once over.
> 
> Follows Episode Ignis alternate ending. [Recommended listening here.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nt26yjdItdA)

“How do you manage to be early for a completely bullshit meeting?”

“Have you ever known me to be late? For anything?”

Ignis’s voice soothes the irritation that simmers in Gladio’s gut. Not that he’s _ungrateful_ for this little impromptu ‘meeting’—in fact, he had to do some creative adjustment in the crotch region of his uniform as soon as he saw the notification pop up on his phone—but he’d been in the middle of a chaotic training session involving green recruits beating the shit out of each other.

“I dunno. I’m sure if I think real hard I can—” Gladio starts. His words die in the cool air of the meeting room as he catches sight of Ignis.

The way Noct makes Ignis wait for him when he’s in this kind of mood ain’t new to Gladio, but holy shit, it catches him off guard anyway. Ignis reclines in one of the plush leather chairs around the central table, his legs crossed at the knee and tapping away at his phone in his left hand.

“Coeurl got your tongue?” Ignis asks, one eyebrow arched.

“You’ve gotta have a better line that that,” Gladio mutters, but he’s already crossing the carpeted floor to get to Ignis.

Ignis sits up a little straighter and meets Gladio’s eyes. He’s down to a tight pair of black briefs that do nothing to disguise the bulge of his cock, a bulge that Gladio shamelessly admires on his way over. A gloved hand rests on his knee, his fingers brushing the tops of the garter that holds up one long, black sock. Aside from his glasses… and fuck, Ignis has his tie on as well, an impeccable knot of purple silk settled at the hollow of his throat… he’s naked, all toned planes of muscle interspersed with scars.

Yeah, nowGladio’s dick _really_ perks up. 

Ignis places his phone face down on the table as Gladio approaches. He takes a moment to enjoy the soft, sweet cast to Ignis’s seafoam eyes, to the little smile he allows himself as he reaches out for Gladio.

“How about this one... I’m glad to see you,” Ignis says, his hands finding Gladio’s hips as he looks up. Somehow despite having undressed, Ignis’s pompadour remains immaculate, only a few artful strands escaping the backwards sweep of hair.

“I like that one better,” Gladio confesses. “Stand up?”

Ignis does so, his hands still locked to Gladio’s hips. Gladio grabs Ignis’s shoulders and gently turns them so that Ignis’s thighs hit the back of the oblong meeting room table. Ignis brings one hand up, his leather-clad fingers sliding up the base of Gladio’s skull and lacing in his hair, just behind the tie that holds a section of it away from his face.

When he kisses Gladio, it’s like a homecoming, his tongue teasing at Gladio’s lips until he parts them for Ignis. Fuck, he could drink Ignis down forever, savour every thrust of his tongue into his mouth like he savours each thrust of Ignis’s cock in his ass when Ignis drills him into the mattress. Gladio moans into the kiss and pulls Ignis closer, raking his blunt nails down Ignis’s back hard enough to draw a whimper from him.

When Ignis moves his other hand to the collar of Gladio’s jacket and starts to unbutton it, Gladio closes his fingers around Ignis’s wrist, stopping the movement.

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be good at following the rules?” Gladio asks, his voice thick with desire.

“I’m certain we can get you dressed again prior to Noct’s arrival,” Ignis says in a breathy whisper. It’s enough for Gladio to release his grip on Ignis’s wrist, tilting his head back as Ignis unbuttons his coat and pushes it off Gladio’s shoulders. Ignis’s hands are under his shirt and snaking up his abs no sooner than the coat is gone.

“Iggy…” Gladio says, but before he can protest further Ignis kisses him again.

They’ve had over a decade of practice at kissing, and Ignis employs every last lesson he’s learned now, taking Gladio’s lower lip in his teeth and biting with just enough pressure to coax a sigh from Gladio. He can feel Iggy’s cock against his thigh, hard and hot, the briefs doing next to nothing to disguise how ready Ignis is from a few lingering kisses alone. Gladio manages to collect his thoughts enough to push Ignis’s hands down when he starts to ruck Gladio’s shirt up.

“We’ve taken off more of your clothing than this and still been safe,” Ignis murmurs, fingertips tracing Gladio’s obliques underneath his shirt.

“You keep goin’ and we’ll both be in trouble,” Gladio says. Ignis chooses that moment to latch onto Gladio’s neck with his mouth, sucking a possessive mark into it, the wet pressure wrenching a low groan from Gladio. Ignis moves to a different spot and repeats the process; Gladio’s torn between trying to break this off and encouraging Ignis to give him _more_. His cock does the thinking for him, one hand cradling the back of Ignis’s head and encouraging him to suck harder, the other hand moving to Ignis’s ass and giving it a few firm squeezes.

The pupils are starting to edge out the green in Ignis’s eyes when they next part. He and Noct both love this sight—Ignis blissed out, eyes dark and cheeks flushed, a damp spot at the front of his briefs where they soak up his precome. Gladio notes his own breath coming heavier, his dick straining against the tight trousers of his uniform. If prior experience is anything to go by, he’s pretty sure he’s not going to get any relief for a while. After all, Ignis prefers to watch where Gladio likes to be fucked, so Noct _of course_ tends to reverse the roles.

Gladio takes one of Ignis’s hands and guides it to his cock. Ignis runs the heel of his palm back and forth along the trapped length, twisting his wrist as he reaches the head, the friction enough to make Gladio buck his hips into the touch.

“What in the fucking Six is taking him so long,” Gladio growls, rutting into Ignis’s hand, each pass sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. Gladio shoves his hand between Ignis’s thighs and cups his cock in his palm, groaning at how rigid Ignis is beneath his briefs.

“Pa—” Ignis says, his words ending in a choked off gasp as Gladio gives him a gentle squeeze, “patience, Gladio.”

“I ain’t in the mood for patience,” Gladio replies.

“Are you ever?”

“When it comes to you two? Nope,” Gladio says. He dips his head and nibbles at Ignis’s exposed collarbone. When Ignis’s breath hitches, he bites down harder, prompting a long moan that echoes within the chamber.

“It might be worth the trouble…” Ignis stutters.

Neither of them have time to consider the idea further, interrupted by the sound of the meeting room door opening.

Gladio’s heart always does a painful lurch in these scenarios. He, Noct, and Iggy are an official thing, Royal Consorts, so it’s not like that part would be a shock. The thing Gladio _doesn’t_ want are rumors—or worse, pictures—of any of them circulating. Pictures of Ignis wearing five pieces of clothing and looking ready for a good dicking concern Gladio in particular, but he’s sure he’s not in a much better state himself. Prompto’s good at keeping the worst offenders out of the paparazzi’s grasp, but lewd photographs of the king and his consorts _in flagrante delicto_ wouldn’t fly.

But it’s just Noct. _Just_ Noct, Gladio thinks with a laugh at himself, as though his cock isn’t twitching beneath the thick fabric of his pants and his heart racing as soon as he realizes it’s Noct.

Noct closes the door behind him and locks it. The King of Insomnia has all the keys to the castle, so to speak, so Gladio isn’t surprised that he was able to enter. He is surprised by the smile on Noct’s face as his misty blue gaze goes between Gladio and Ignis. Wherever Noct was must not have been of top tier importance; he’s wearing a pinstripe suit in black and silver instead of the full kingly raiment, fiddling with his elegant white-gold watch. Astrals, there’s a reason Noct still gets glossy, full page spreads in magazines, and it’s not just because he’s a king. He’s come a long way from the kid who Ignis would have to drag to the royal stylist for appointments and fittings.

Some things never change, though.

“Took you long enough,” Gladio says with a smirk.

“Some of us have a country to run,” Noct replies. He walks towards Gladio and Ignis like he hasn’t a care in the world—and given what Gladio knows he and Ignis will do for him tonight, he probably doesn’t. “Looks like you two have been having fun.”

Uh oh. There’s a dark undercurrent to Noct’s words that promises consequence.

“Your Grace…” Ignis begins. He withdrew from Gladio the minute he heard the door open to seat himself back in the chair. Aside from his swollen lips and the slightly hazy cast about his expression, he manages to look as perfectly put together as anyone can when stripped down to single digit articles of clothing. Hell, Gladio thinks he does a better job at dignity in nothing but those fucking sock garters than half the Council does in full formal dress.

“Ah ah,” Noct says, holding up one black-gloved finger. He’s right next to Ignis now, close enough to extend his arm and place that finger against Ignis’s lips. “I left you alone with Gladio for twenty minutes and you managed to break one of my very simple rules.” The way Noct pulls down Iggy’s plump, pink bottom lip with his thumb sends a spike of heat along Gladio’s inner thighs. 

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty,” Ignis breathes, his eyes a smidge unfocused.

“You _think_ you’re sorry now,” Noct corrects, stroking Ignis’s cheek lovingly with his palm. He draws his hand back and slaps Ignis across that same cheek, a blow designed to sting but lacking the force to do much otherwise. Gladio forgets how to breathe for an instant—it’s all part of the game, and they have their safe words—as Noct softens the slap with a kiss to Ignis’ opposite cheek.

Astrals, they make a compelling picture. Gladio doesn’t have much time to admire it, though, before Noct turns his attention to him. He takes the few steps and comes to a stop in front of Gladio, who’s leaning against the polished marble table a little too heavily for his own liking.

“As for you,” Noct begins, eyes lidded, “since you decided to be impatient, you can wait even longer.” There’s an electric charge in their gazes as they lock together, amber on twilight. “On your knees, Captain.”

When his king gives him an order, Gladio has no choice but to follow it. He’s on his Six-damned knees in an instant. He goes down a little too quickly and feels a jab of pain, the carpeted floor not having much in the way of cushioning to absorb the shock. Noct stands above him and tangles a fist in Gladio’s hair. He doesn’t yank Gladio’s head back or pull on his hair, not yet, but Gladio suspects that will depend on his behavior.

Fuck it. He’s in the mood for punishment, and he knows how to earn it.

“We have to do this in a public meeting room in the middle of the fucking Citadel?” Gladio asks, voice low. He catches the suggestion of an indrawn breath from Ignis’s direction.

Noct smiles. It’s a smile with a wicked edge, one that Noct’s only perfected in recent years. He releases his grip on Gladio’s hair and begins to undo the lavish silver belt buckle peeking out from beneath his dress shirt. After a handful of metallic clinks, there’s the whisper of leather against cloth, and Noct holds the belt loosely in one hand.

“Ignis?”

As enticing—and thrilling—as the image of Noct dangling a belt in front of him is, Gladio’s attention drifts to Ignis. Ignis uncrosses his socked feet and sits up in the chair; Gladio can see the force of his swallow from his kneeling position a couple metres away. It’s clear that he’s enjoying this. His cock strains against the luxurious fabric of his briefs and forms a sizeable tent.

“Your Grace?” Ignis asks. The question sounds blurry to Gladio’s ears, his normally sharp accent meandering aimlessly along the words, which means he’s already dissolving into that space where he’s free to lose control.

“How badly do you want to suck my cock right now? Be honest,” Noct asks in return. He never breaks eye contact with Gladio during the question. A gloved finger curls underneath Gladio’s chin as Noct tilts his head with a thoughtful expression.

“Quite badly, Your Grace,” Ignis replies. Gladio’s own dick jumps within its prison of starched fabric. He’s already so hard it hurts, which promises suffering of a different kind if he’s guessed what Noct has in mind.

“Then,” Noct begins, setting the belt on the table behind Gladio’s shoulders and grinning again, “I think I’ll let Gladio to do the honors. You and I both know that his lips look absolutely perfect wrapped around my dick. What do you think, Captain?”

There’s only one correct answer to this question unless Gladio wants to push his luck. Given that his head already swims like he’s a few beers deep and his pulse beats like thunder in his ears, he doesn’t.

“Whatever you want, Your Majesty.”

“Good pet,” Noct murmurs.

Gladio finds his gaze drawn to Noct’s hands as they unbutton his pinstripe slacks. His hands are unadorned save for two items: the Ring of the Lucii, a stark black circle against the middle finger of his right hand, and the engraved white-gold ring on his left that matches Gladio’s (and Ignis’s) own. Noct peels his trousers down enough to expose his underwear and crooks a finger at Gladio.

“You know what to do. You can use your hands,” Noct says, then adds, “for now.”

Six help him, Gladio does.

He scoots closer to Noct while still on his knees. He’s proud to note that his hands are utterly still as they find the edges of Noct’s underwear. They’re briefs, similar to Ignis’s but midnight blue in colour, a neat trail of black hair starting at Noct’s navel disappearing under the elastic band at the top. Gladio’s so close to Noct that he can smell the faint musk of him. He loves doing this, loves taking either Ignis or Noct in his mouth until they come undone, but he does his best to look contrite as he tugs the fabric down to expose Noct’s half-hard dick to the air.

Gladio braces one hand on the outside of Noct’s thigh. He takes the other and cradles Noct’s cock between the ‘V’ of his thumb and pointer finger. His hands seem so big compared to Noct’s body—they always have—but he doesn’t have time to admire that right now. Leaning in, he gently places his lips over the head of Noct’s dick and makes his way down, slowly, until all of Noct is in his mouth and Gladio’s lips are against the base of Noct’s shaft.

“That’s my Captain, sucking cock like he was born for it,” Noct rasps. His hand makes its way to Gladio’s hair again. Gladio suspects he won’t get to control the pace for long, but he licks and sucks at Noct enthusiastically while he can. He feels his own cock jump and leak when Noct moans, tightening his grip on Gladio’s head. The sensation of Noct growing fully hard in Gladio’s mouth, of the velvety soft length of him sliding back along his throat, it’s a feeling he’ll never get tired of.

Gladio barely realizes that he’s begun to drool around Noct’s dick until Noct jerks his head back by his hair. His own cock aches, his chest aches, all he wants is to have Noct in his mouth again, to taste the salt and skin of his king beneath his tongue. He needs this as much as Noct needs it, to find release in surrender, to take orders and not give a fuck about the consequences.

“You let Ignis take your jacket off,” Noct says after pulling Gladio off his dick. It’s not a question. The hoarseness to Noct’s voice provokes another gasp from Ignis.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Gladio pants.

“Why do you have such a problem obeying me?” Noct asks, gripping Gladio’s chin in his fingers with vicelike force. “Am I a bad master? A bad _king_?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Your Grace, please,” Ignis breathes from behind Noct. Gladio’s vision is blocked, but the strained quality to Ignis’s words makes his own breath come harder.

Noct looks over his shoulder with a dark chuckle. “Gods, you’re such a slut for this. Go ahead and touch yourself.”

Gladio can’t see it, but the thought of Ignis palming himself through his underwear while in that leather chair, his back arched… it’s enough to send a flush of heat through his entire body. Noct grabs Gladio’s head with a single hand, his fingers splayed against Gladio’s cheek.

“Use me,” Gladio rumbles, unable to stop the words.

Noct laughs again. He reaches down and takes his own cock in hand, rubbing the head against Gladio’s lips, wet with saliva.

“Beg for it, Captain, and I might consider.”

A wave of dizziness washes over Gladio. He begins to beg before his mind has a chance to catch up. “Your Majesty, please, fuck my mouth… I need to taste you. I want you to use me. I want to serve.”

Ignis moans, long and loud, from behind them, drawing another chuckle from Noct.

“We’re not done with your punishment,” Noct says. “Open wide.”

Gladio parts his lips, his tongue out, a gesture he’s certain looks utterly fucking lewd but doesn’t have the wherewithal to care about at the moment. Noct holds Gladio’s head still with both hands and slides his cock into Gladio’s willing mouth until he’s all the way in, the head nudging the back of Gladio’s throat.

All Gladio can do is hold on as Noct begins to fuck his face in earnest. Noct’s fingers grip his head so tight that it’s a little painful, but that only makes Gladio moan, moan as Noct thrusts all the way in his mouth. Gladio has to make an effort to keep breathing through his nose, drooling around the hot length of Noct’s shaft, as he fucks Gladio’s mouth as fast and as hard as he wants. Gladio stays perfectly still, his own hands gripping Noct’s thighs as though they’re the only things keeping him from losing his balance over—and they might be.

“Fuck, your hole feels so good,” Noct says, punctuating the statement with another quick snap of his hips, filling Gladio’s throat once more. “You’re such a good pet when your mouth is full of my cock. Keep it up— _ungh—_ and you might earn a reward after all.”

Gladio groans again. He closes his lips around Noct’s shaft each time Noct thrusts between them, working his tongue along the underside as best he can. He does this for Ignis and Noct on a regular basis. Gladio loves to watch them climax in his mouth, to taste their come as he brings them to orgasm. He doesn’t think Noct will, but he can hope all the same. It’s enough to be on his knees submitting to his king as he takes his pleasure from Gladio. Involuntary tears prick at his eyes as Noct increases his pace, using Gladio’s mouth in a crude imitation of what he’s surely about to do to either him or Ignis.

When Noct’s thighs begin to twitch underneath his hands, when his breath stutters out of him in shaky gasps, he begins to slow down, easing his cock in and out of Gladio’s mouth with slow, languorous thrusts.

“I bet you’d just love it if I came right down your throat, wouldn’t you, Captain?” Noct asks, slipping one of his hands back to give Gladio’s hair a sharp tug for emphasis. Gladio flicks his gaze up as Noct slides his dick back in his mouth again; he can feel the stiff length of him jump in his mouth, a bead of precome spreading across his tongue in a burst of salt, as he meets Noct’s eyes, eyes that are dark and full of lust. A little flicker of pride sparks at the knowledge that Noct’s as turned on as he is.

Yeah, Gladio _would_ like it, but he’s pretty fucking sure he’s not going to get the privilege tonight. He can’t answer with Noct’s cockhead nudging the back of his throat, so he settles for closing his eyes and moaning loudly around it, as close to a yes as he can manage with Noct using his mouth.

His king, consort—and tonight, dom—grunts and pulls Gladio’s hair again. Gladio hollows his cheeks as Noct pushes himself into Gladio’s mouth a few more times before withdrawing, his cock glistening with saliva and flushed red at the tip.

“Ignis. Sit on on the edge of the table,” Noct says, pointing to the spot he wants. Ignis rises out of his chair and sits on the edge of the black marble table in an instant, his socked toes just brushing the carpet and his cock straining against his briefs.

Noct makes eye contact with Gladio and caresses his bearded cheek with a gloved hand. As Noct runs his hand closer to Gladio’s mouth, he shoves two fingers past Gladio’s lips and into his mouth, almost to the last knuckle. All Gladio can taste is leather and salt as Noct pushes against Gladio’s tongue, holding his mouth open long enough that Gladio begins to drool around Noct’s fingers.

“As for you, _Captain_ , you’ll wait here on your knees like a good pet, hands behind your back. You can watch, but if you so much as think about touching yourself…” Noct drawls, thrusting his fingers all the way in Gladio’s mouth, drawing a gag from Gladio, “you’ll regret it for the next week. Am I clear?” Noct lets his fingers slip from Gladio’s mouth and raises one black eyebrow at him.

Shit. Astrals. Fucking _Six_. Gladio’s already hard enough to hurt, so turned on that he can feel the wet spot in his own boxers every time he shifts. 

A forceful, sharp slap to his face brings him out of his haze. “Answer me.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Gladio rasps. He can practically feel the outline of Noct’s palm from the slap. He crosses his wrists behind his back and stays kneeling.

“Good,” Noct croons. He leans down and kisses Gladio on his slick, swollen lips. It’s more teeth than lips before Noct licks into Gladio’s mouth, tasting Gladio for a few moments before withdrawing. Gladio wants more, wants Noct to kiss him longer, deeper, but he knows he’s not allowed to ask for it tonight.

Noct moves to stand in front of Ignis, right between his thighs, close enough that his exposed cock brushes against Ignis’s clothed erection. Ignis makes a noise Gladio can only call a whimper as Noct skims his fingers against the flat, taut surface of Ignis’s belly, trailing them up in a slow drag until he’s gripping Ignis’s shoulder.

“You like watching me fuck Gladio’s mouth, don’t you, Ignis?” Noct asks. He’s leaning so close to Ignis that they’re sharing one another’s air, their lips an exhale apart.

“Your Grace…” Ignis says, blinking slowly. His eyes are unfocused behind the pristine lenses of his glasses. 

“That’s not an answer,” Noct says, sharper this time, his hand drifting from Ignis’s shoulder to rest lightly against Ignis’s neck. Fuck, Gladio thinks, if this is going where he thinks it’s going… his cock throbs and starts to stir to painful hardness again.

“I do, Your Grace,” Ignis replies.

“What would the Council say if they knew my advisor was a filthy slut?” Noct asks airly. “If they knew how often he’s made himself come while watching the King fuck his Shield?” Gladio can see Noct’s black-gloved fingers clamp down gently on Ignis’s throat, enough to cut off his oxygen but not hard enough to bruise or damage. The little choked sound Ignis makes goes right to Gladio’s dick. Noct relaxes his grip and Ignis gasps, his cheeks flushed and eyes misty. Noct takes Ignis’s glasses off with his free hand, tossing them aside with a careless motion, his gloved hand still around Ignis’s neck.

“I… I don’t know, Your Grace,” Ignis keens. He’s snaked his own gloved hand under his briefs and strokes his cock beneath the fabric—Noct hasn’t told him to stop, after all. It took them awhile to work up to choking, but Gladio knows how much Ignis loves this, Noct’s hand around his throat, completely at his mercy.

“You did so much with Gladio first, but this is ours, isn’t it, pet?” Noct murmurs. His hand clamps down again and Ignis’s eyes roll back in his head. Ignis’s lips are pursed in a tiny ‘o’, his head tipped back a fraction of its own volition, chest heaving as he struggles for air. Noct leaves him a few seconds longer this time before relenting. Ignis gasps as the pressure releases, sucking in air, his whole body trembling.

Gladio enjoys this game, but Ignis _lives_ for it, and he doesn’t forget his manners even though Noct intermittently strangles him. “Yes, Your Grace,” Ignis rasps, “as I am yours.”

When Noct leans forward and kisses Ignis, his hand still bracketing Ignis’s throat, Gladio’s pulse begins to climb again. He catches a flash of tongue as Noct plunders Ignis’s mouth, Ignis pliant beneath his touch, his hand moving a little faster on his cock as he moans into the kiss.

It’s enough to make Gladio dizzy. He keeps kneeling, though, eyes trained on both of his lovers.

“Now, now,” Noct says, putting pressure on Ignis’s throat as they break for air, “you might belong to me tonight, but our Captain’s behaving so well that I might let him have a turn with you too.”

Ignis can’t respond for a handful of moments, helpless in Noct’s grasp, and then Noct lets him breathe again. There’s a darker spot of black on black where Ignis has leaked through his briefs. Noct’s hard too, his cock still the only thing exposed from his otherwise immaculate suit; Gladio watches a bead of precome well at the slit and drip onto Ignis’s thigh as they’re locked together.

“Please,” Ignis murmurs, voice raspy. Gladio thinks his head might be lolling if Noct weren’t holding it up.

“Please what?” Noct’s voice is dark with promise and threat.

“Take me. Let Gladio take me. Both,” Ignis replies. Noct finally lets go of Ignis’s throat with a chuckle, head tilted as he considers.

“Sure,” Noct agrees. “I’m in a generous mood. But since you were impatient too, breaking one of two tiny rules I set out…” Noct places a pointer finger under Ignis’s chin, tipping Ignis’s face up so that he has no choice but to look at Noct. “You’re not allowed to come until I say.”

Ignis keens, the sound lingering in the back of his throat, and Gladio fears he may break his kneeling stance.

 _Fuck_. It hasn’t been twenty minutes yet, but the mere mention of him being able to come at all makes Gladio desperately want to jerk himself off, to relieve the near-painful heat simmering in his dick; preferably someone’s cock would be buried in his ass along with the jerking, but right now, he ain’t picky. His hands itch with the intensity of the need where he holds them at the small of his back. This is better than any kind of porn or fantasy—which is part of the torture—Ignis coming undone at the seams under their king’s attention. 

“Get your hands out of your underwear, my pet, and take your gloves off. No hands,” Noct adds as an afterthought.

Gladio’s eyes are drawn to Ignis as he lifts one hand to his mouth, unfastening the button at the wrists with a quick pull of his teeth. He’s watching Ignis take each fingertip of his glove in his teeth and slowly work it free when his vision is suddenly filled with Noct. A surge of need rises in him as Noct’s erection bobs in front of his face, not quite as hard as it was a few moments ago, begging to be touched.

Noct reaches down to stroke Gladio’s hair a few times, gentle passes that have Gladio leaning into his touch. “You look so good serving me on your knees, my Shield. Use that troublesome mouth of yours on me again.”

As soon as Gladio’s lust-hazed brain registers the words, he’s leaning forward on his knees, licking a stripe up the underside of Noct’s dick with the flat of his tongue. Noct continues petting Gladio’s hair as he takes the head of Noct’s cock between his lips, sucking lightly and teasing Noct’s frenulum with side to side strokes of his tongue. Gladio changes from sucking to licking again; he swipes a salty pearl of precome from the slit with his tongue before sloppily tracing the veins of Noct’s cock, all the way to the base of the shaft. The dark, tight curls that Gladio knows are there are mostly hidden by Noct’s underwear, but he buries his nose against fabric and skin all the same, smelling the natural musk that’s as familiar to him as Ignis’s, sharper than his other lover’s but just as intoxicating.

“Enough,” Noct says, pushing Gladio’s head away with a rough shove. Gladio rocks back on his heels but manages to stay kneeling as Noct takes a few steps back towards Ignis. Ignis has both gloves off and sits perched on the edge of the meeting room table, body quivering, cheeks and chest flushed.

“Turn over and pull your underwear down,” Noct commands. He’s finished taking off his own gloves and fishes for something in his jacket pocket. When he withdraws his hand, Gladio notes a small bottle of lube—his heart misses a few beats as he contemplates what that bottle means.

His gaze drifts to Ignis and his heart stops entirely. Ignis has bent himself over the luxurious black marble table and has his black briefs tugged down around his thighs, his upper body currently braced on his forearms. His cock hangs flushed and heavy between his thighs, dripping a bead of precome, every centimetre of his lean muscles flexed in anticipation. Noct steps up behind Ignis and roughly spreads his legs further apart.

“You’re so fucking eager, aren’t you, Ignis?” Noct muses.

Gladio has a pretty good angle… too good an angle, if you ask his throbbing, aching cock… but he can’t see exactly what Noct’s doing with his hands. When Ignis lifts his head from the table with a gasp, Gladio assumes Noct has slid a finger or two inside his ass. Gods, the way Ignis pushes his ass back towards Noct, thighs spread, it sends a shock along each and every one of his nerves. This is a special kind of release for both of them—Gladio a break from giving orders day in and day out, Ignis a break from organizing their lives into perfect order—so he doesn’t begrudge Ignis his pleasure in this. Hell, he loves seeing Ignis sink into utter submission almost as he loves the man himself. 

The only thing he can manage to be upset about is the fact that he can’t touch himself yet, ‘cause shit, he’s pretty sure he’s managed to make a wet spot in his uniform pants at this point.

Ignis lets out an absolutely debauched moan as Noct does something else with his hands. His socked feet slide a bit on the floor as he rocks his hips backwards again. The back and forth of Noct’s elbow accompanied by lewd, wet, sucking sounds all but scream that Noct is opening Ignis up, fucking him on his fingers.

“Tell me and Gladio how bad you want it,” Noct says, heated and low.

“Very badly,” Ignis says, his breath hitching in the middle of the words before dissolving into a moan. “Please take me, Your Grace.”

“Not good enough,” Noct growls. Ignis cries out as Noct’s elbow _twists_ , another drop of precome dripping from Ignis’s cock to the floor. “I know you’re capable of swearing. Let’s hear some filthy language from a filthy slut.” Noct takes hold of Ignis’s tie with his other hand and pulls backwards on it, causing Ignis’s head to wrench back with it.

“Fuck me, Your Grace, please, I, _ah—”_ Ignis’s word cut off as he groans, long and loud, Noct using the purple silk of his tie as a makeshift leash. “I need you, I need Gladio, I need both of you, I—”

Noct jerks the tie again and Ignis makes that soft choking noise, the one that goes right to Gladio’s dick. He’s so fucking gorgeous that it hurts to look at, back arched, his body an elegant curve from the nape of his neck to his ass. Later, maybe, if Ignis is up for a round two after all this, Gladio wants to be face down underneath Ignis, pressed into the mattress of the bed the three of them share, and fucked nice and slow. He imagines Ignis’s hand over his mouth since Noct would be asleep beside them, and…

A series of panting breaths draws Gladio out of his fantasy and back to the meeting room and his aching dick. His heart twinges deep in his chest when he sees Noct lining his cock up with Ignis’s entrance. Ignis’s legs tremble from socked calves to toned thighs as Noct slides the tip of himself up and down, teasing entrance.

“Your Grace!” Ignis calls, eyes screwed shut and cheeks red. Gladio hadn’t noticed before now, but Ignis’s skin glistens with a light sheen of sweat in the soft yellow glow cast by the dimmed lights.

“Captain,” Noct says, voice only a little strained as he pushes his cock inside Ignis inch by inch, “Strip. You can touch yourself while I fuck my pet, but no coming yet. Understood?”

Gladio barely sputters out a quick “Yes, Your Majesty,” before peeling his shirt off and tossing it on top of his jacket. He’s never been so frustrated by how many buckles and zippers his Kingsglaive uniform pants have, but after a frantic minute of fumbling with shaking hands, he gets them off too, ridding himself of pants, underwear and socks to join the rest of his clothes. If his whole fucking body didn’t feel like it was on fire, he might be cold given that the meeting room is damn near glacial, but as it stands he’s comfortable enough.

Gladio has one hand on his dick as soon as he kneels again. All the precome he’s been leaking into his damn underwear makes it a slick jerk, the first stroke of his hand providing pleasure, friction, and relief by the same measure. Careful to keep his motions controlled—he doesn’t want to find out what the punishment will be if he comes too soon—he turns his attention back to Ignis and Noct.

It’s buried somewhere under the desire that burns through him like wildfire, but Gladio’s struck by how good these two look together. Gladio realizes how lucky he is… well, _mostly_ lucky… that he gets to serve his king in every sense of the word. He wishes Noct had gotten undressed tonight, but there’s an animal appeal to watching him fuck Ignis with most of his pinstripe suit still on, a curtain of black hair obscuring his face from this angle. Noct has one palm pressed between Ignis’s shoulder blades, holding him flush against the table’s surface, his hips pistoning into Ignis and causing obscene noises to fill the room. 

For Ignis’s part… his cheek rests against the table, his face turned towards Gladio, and the raw lust in his gorgeous eyes makes Gladio’s dick twitch in his palm. He doesn’t… can’t begrudge Ignis anything, especially not this. Gladio’s life might have been pledged to Noct before he was born, but his heart was Ignis’s first, a love he’s maintained even when a third person was added to the equation. As their eyes meet, Ignis mouths Gladio’s name— _Gladiolus_ —and desire burns Gladio to ash all over again. 

Of course, Gladio loves them both, or he never would have agreed to any of this. So here he is, naked as the day he was born—except a white-gold ring and an old necklace—touching himself while one man he loves fucks the other into oblivion, right in the middle of the Citadel.

“You’re so good to both of us, pet,” Noct says, gripping Ignis’s hips with one hand and easing up the pressure on Ignis’s back with the other, stroking his spine. “So willing to offer up your tight ass for me, so willing to let Gladio watch you be fucked…” Noct follows the curve of Ignis’s hipbones with a hand and curls it around his cock, prompting a moan from Ignis. “Remember, no coming.”

Noct picks up the pace of his thrusts, snapping his hips into Ignis over and over, the smacking sounds of skin on skin echoing a little too loudly. Gladio sits back on his knees and strokes himself a bit faster, matching his own pace to that of Noct’s hand on Ignis’s cock. Ignis makes tiny gasps and cries each time Noct thrusts into him; Gladio’s seen this enough times to know Ignis is fighting not to come, his cock red and flushed and impossibly stiff in Noct’s hand.

“Your Grace, I-I can’t… if you keeping touching me, please, I’ll come…” Ignis pants against the table, his hands curled into fists beside his head, scrambling for purchase that isn’t there.

Noct laughs and strokes Ignis faster, twisting his palm around the head of Ignis’s cock just how he likes, and Ignis cries out again. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you stripped my Shield before I could,” Noct growls, his own voice breathless and tense. “Convince me that you’re sorry and I’ll stop.”

“I’m sorry, Your Grace, _please_ …” Ignis says.

“Not convinced,” Noct says, rocking into Ignis at a punishing pace with one hand on Ignis’s hips for leverage.

“Please don’t force me to come, Your Grace, I beg you. I want you _and_ Gladio— _ahh,_ Astrals, _Your Grace_! I need you both and I couldn’t help myself, I’m sorry, I want to be good—” Ignis’s words devolve into wordless cries, his cheeks red, hair damp with sweat and falling into his face.

Gladio has to stop stroking himself when Ignis speaks again. Hearing Ignis beg—Ignis, who rules over Lucian bureaucracy with an iron fist and can kill a man with magic or steel—sends a spike of pleasure straight through Gladio’s gut. Noct clearly agrees, because he moves his hand from Ignis’s leaking cock to his other hip. Gladio can see Noct’s fingers digging in hard, gripping the skin so tight that there’s a little circle of white under each fingertip, colour chased away by pressure.

“Good pet,” Noct says, and then he’s _truly_ fucking Ignis, fucking him so hard that Gladio’s pretty sure Ignis wouldn’t be able to hold himself up if he weren’t on the table. Gladio can’t tear his eyes away as Ignis gets pounded against the table, his gaze flicking from Noct’s face, to Ignis’s, to Noct’s slick cock sliding in and out of Ignis’s asshole, before repeating the circuit. 

He thumbs the head of his dick as Noct starts to gasp and grunt himself, his forearms shaking where he holds onto Ignis for dear life. When he throws his head back with a moan, his hips snapping into Ignis once, twice more before staying buried inside Ignis, Gladio knows he’s coming. The knowledge that Noct’s filling Ignis with his come makes him a little dizzy; he sways where he kneels, stroking his own cock from habit rather than any true desire to find release.

Both Ignis and Noct pause, panting, Ignis quivering under Noct’s body as he lays flush against Ignis’s back. Noct gives a pleased, dark laugh and pats Ignis’s ass before withdrawing, his softening cock slipping out of Ignis’s ass. Noct tucks himself back into his pants, heedless of the mess—Gladio suspects through the reeling haze of lust that they’ll be going straight back to their chambers after this—and meets Gladio’s eyes with his twilight blue ones.

“Ignis,” Noct asks, both casual and breathless, “Are you ready for Gladio now? He’s been so patient.”

“ _Gladio_ ,” Ignis murmurs, hazy, legs shaking so hard that it’s a wonder they hold him up. Gods, Gladio wants nothing more than to go to Ignis. He’ll do whatever Noct asks to get to him.

Noct settles himself in one of the plush leather chairs and leans back, his gaze going from Gladio to Ignis. How he looks so composed, so authoritative right after blowing his load is beyond Gladio, but it’s working for him at this moment. He doesn’t give a shit that he’s kneeling naked in a public meeting room with the King and his Advisor, he just wants some kind of attention on his cock yesterday.

“Clean Ignis up first before you fuck him,” Noct says, waving a dismissive hand. He pauses, a wicked glint to his sudden smile. “Use your mouth. No hands.”

Gladio’s heart lurches in a way that might not be medically sound. Noct’s command is… degrading, and filthy, and he’s already rising to his feet and crossing the distance to Ignis because he’s absolutely going to do it. Ignis hasn’t moved from where he lays on the table, his thighs spread, his underwear still strung between them in a single black band.

Oh, Astrals, Gladio thinks as he sinks to his knees behind Ignis. His hole gapes a bit from where Noct has just finished fucking him, his rim nice and pink, the puckered skin glistening with lube and semen both. Gladio’s gaze roves over Ignis’s balls, covered in neatly trimmed ash brown hair, before reaching his cock, hanging heavy and flushed still between his thighs. As Gladio looks back up, a thick glob of come leaks from Ignis’s asshole and down his inner thigh. _Fuck_. This has to be one of the nastiest and hottest things Noct’s come up with.

“Sometime today,” Noct says again from behind Gladio, and it’s enough.

Gladio braces himself with one hand on either side of Ignis’s thighs and leans in, beginning to lave away the come that dribbles down Ignis’s legs. Ignis moans as Gladio cleans him, working his way up towards Ignis’s ass, tasting nothing but bitter salt with a chemical hint of lube as he licks Noct’s come from Ignis’s body. It’s a slow process—more leaks out by the time Gladio’s nearing Ignis’s hole—and Gladio can feel a blush heating his cheeks even as his own cock jumps between his legs. He pauses as he nears Ignis’s entrance, unsure if he could continue.

“Don’t be shy. I’ve watched you eat Ignis out plenty. You both love it,” Noct drawls.

He ain’t wrong. Fucking Six, this is wrong, but it turns him on anyway. Gladio takes a sharp breath in and begins to lick Ignis’s hole, cleaning most of the mess away with his tongue, swallowing Noct’s come down while licking up and down Ignis’s entrance. Ignis makes a noise that’s half moan and half sob—Gladio thinks his hands might be keeping Ignis upright at this point.

“Ignis,” Noct asks sternly from outside of Gladio’s vision, “You green?”

“Green, yes, Your Grace,” Ignis says, though his voices shakes a bit when he answers.

“Good. In that case…” Noct replies, pausing for a moment, “I think you’ve done enough, Captain. You’ve my permission to both fuck him however you want and to come. Ignis?”

“Your Grace?”

“You don’t come until Gladio does.”

“Of course, Your Grace.”

“Be sure to give me a good show. I’m watching both of you,” Noct says.

It was Noct catching Gladio and Ignis in a compromising position all those years ago that started this triad; as much as Ignis likes watching, Noct likes watching almost as much, and Gladio swears he can feel Noct’s gaze on them like the tickle of a feather on the back of his neck. 

Gladio rises from his kneel, the bitter taste of come still coating his tongue, and rubs little circles into the small of Ignis’s back. “Can you turn over for me?” he asks, voice gentle.

“Mmm… help?” Ignis asks, distant.

“Yeah. I got you, Iggy,” Gladio murmurs. As badly as he wants Ignis, he doesn’t want him to fall off the table or hurt himself, so between the two of them they shift him so Ignis is laying on his back. The sight of him spread out below Gladio, cheeks pink and pompadour disheveled, is enough to steal his breath. Gladio strokes his chest with the palm of his hand all the way down to Ignis’s treasure trail, sliding his hand over Ignis’s cock before caressing him all over, relishing the feel of soft curls and hot skin against his palm.

Ignis gives him a dazed half-smile, the scar at the corner of his lips tugging at the skin. “Gladio, please, I need you,” Ignis says quietly. He tries to reach for Gladio, raising his arms to reveal the two neat patches of hair underneath them, but can’t manage the energy to lift himself from the table.

“Easy. Trust me, I’m gettin’ there,” Gladio says. He notices the bottle of lube from earlier resting on the table. After reaching over to grab it, he uncaps it and pours a bit in his hand before coating his cock with it. He probably doesn’t _need_ it, but more is never a bad thing. Returning the bottle to its resting place, he turns his attention back on Ignis, splayed out below him.

He doesn’t know how gentle he’s gonna be, but fuck, does he ever want to be inside Ignis. Gladio takes one of Ignis’s thighs in each hand and spreads them wide, hooking them in his elbows—he knows Ignis has the flexibility for this position. Once Gladio’s pelvis is nearly flush with Ignis’s, his long legs bent back close to the table’s surface, he reaches between his legs and guides his cock to Ignis’s entrance. He bends down and steals a kiss from Ignis; Ignis immediately parts his lips for Gladio’s tongue, moaning into the kiss, his hands gripping Gladio’s forearms tightly.

It’s as they kiss that Gladio eases his cock inside of Ignis. The heat of him sends a heady rush of pleasure filtering through his blood. The fact that Noct has already fucked him, already come inside him means he’s a little more loose and a lot more wet than usual. Gladio groans—he can’t help himself as he begins to thrust in and out of Ignis faster than he usually might. All he can think is that he’s using Ignis after he’s already been fucked, fucked by their king no less, and it turns Gladio on so much that his whole body aches with desire. Gladio has been desperate to come since Noct told him to strip, and he’s even more desperate to come inside Ignis, to fill him up completely.

Ignis tilts head back and keens as Gladio rolls his hips back and forward. His heart thunders in furious staccato beats as he looks at Ignis, writhing underneath him and practically mewling, clearly in that far away place that he craves from time to time.

Gladio can feel the muscle of Ignis’s rim sliding along his cock with each thrust, the friction eased by Noct’s come, and the sensation makes him fuck Ignis harder. As much as he loves Ignis, as much as he’s fine with sharing, he still feels a spark of possessiveness, a desire to stake his claim. Ignis doesn’t _belong_ to either Noct or Gladio—he’s a person, not a possession—but it’s a base, animal urge, an instinct Gladio gives in to as he buries himself to the hilt inside Ignis’s ass. 

“Touch yourself, Ignis,” Noct calls from behind them.

Ignis’s eyes flutter shut and he reaches a hand down between his legs, taking his cock in hand and stroking himself with slow passes. The image of Ignis’s jerking himself off with his thighs spread while Gladio fucks him senseless on a public meeting room table… yeah, Gladio’s going to remember tonight, there’s no doubt about that. Ignis looks so fucking stunning blissed out like this, taking Gladio’s cock like he was made for it, biting back a cry as Gladio finds the angle that allows him to brush against Ignis’s prostate with each thrust.

Gladio’s getting pretty close to climax himself now that he’s not fighting the spiral of heat building in his groin. He’s gotten a good rhythm going, his balls slapping against Ignis’s ass with each snap of his hips, his cock engulfed in slick heat over and over.

His hips stutter as he feels a familiar drag of leather against his spine.

“Captain,” Noct says, “I expect you to keep fucking Ignis.”

Gladio has about two seconds to wonder what that means before he hears a crack and feels a line of fire spread along the muscles of his back. Fuck—the belt. _Astrals_.

“You didn’t really think I was done with your punishment?” Noct drawls. There’s a whistle and another lash of the belt heats Gladio’s skin. Gladio gasps, his rhythm faltering, but he keeps moving in and out of Ignis all the same.

Gladio locks eyes with Ignis and finds his pupils wide, so wide there’s hardly any green left in them, lips parted. Gladio bends down again and kisses Ignis—it’s a clumsy, sloppy affair, but Ignis kisses him back. The belt cracks across Gladio’s ass this time, the pain sharper, almost as though the belt has been folded in half.

“You—” Gladio pauses and groans when several more quick, powerful blows rain across the backs of his thighs as he’s buried to the hilt in Ignis, “You good, Iggy?”

Ignis manages a vague nod, which satisfies Gladio. He’s never been shy about using his safe word, but tonight is intense for everyone.

Gladio has no concept of time as he tips towards the precipice, the pleasure of being inside Ignis interspersed with the lashes Noct delivers with an expert hand. Fuck, it’s almost too much, pain and pleasure weaving together. If choking is Ignis’s thing, the beatings are his, the pain heightening each one of Gladio’s senses. Ignis feels so fucking good around him that he knows he’s getting close, every sensation building to a sweet sharpness that borders on overstimulation. He’s breathing hard, covered in sweat, and desperate for release.

It’s Ignis that pushes him over the edge—it almost always is.

“Gladio, Gladio, _Gladio_ ,” Ignis pants beneath him. He’s stroking his cock with fast, quick motions, a tiny puddle of precome pooling just below his navel. “ _Please—_ ”

That tips the scales. Gladio bellows as he comes hard, burying himself inside Ignis’s ass and holding himself there as his orgasm washes over him. His vision goes black for one tremulous instant and comes back into focus with crystal clarity; one final blow of the belt sears across his back before those stop, too. 

Gladio can feel Ignis’s ass clenching wildly around his cock during the aftershocks of his own orgasm. He’s coming, coming _undone_ in Gladio’s grip, painting his hand and stomach white with spurt after spurt of come, working his cock with deliberate strokes through his own orgasm. Ignis doesn’t make any noise beyond a choked whimper, his body shaking uncontrollably as he rides out the end of his climax.

No one speaks for several long minutes. Gladio releases Ignis’s legs and lets them dangle off the edge of the table. He has to brace himself on something, so the table it is, his forearms supporting his weight. Both he and Ignis are sweaty and slick where their chests are pressed together. Ignis cups the back of Gladio’s neck and urges him down to his mouth, exchanging several bleary kiss that are all tongue, blurred at the edges and messy but full of affection. 

Gladio feels a hand rubbing up and down his back in soothing passes—Noct—and Ignis smiles dreamily below him.

“Gladio, look at me?” Noct asks. His voice is softer now, more like his usual tone, but Gladio obeys. Noct wears a fond smile and cups Gladio’s cheek. “You good, Big Guy?”

“I’ll be good in a few,” Gladio says shakily.

“Okay,” Noct agrees. He draws Gladio into a kiss, a mostly chaste affair with a hint of tongue, and Gladio lets out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding when they part.

“Kiss me again?” Gladio asks, a bit shyly considering all the lewd shit he’s done over the past hour, but what the hell.

Noct laughs. It’s a sound that hasn’t changed much in all the years Gladio’s known him, comforting and quiet. He kisses Gladio again, deeper this time, his tongue gently pressing past Gladio’s lips and tenderly exploring the inside of his mouth. Gladio feels better after that kiss and lets him turn his attention to Ignis.

… Ignis, who’s currently staring at the ceiling with a blissful smile, chest heaving as he catches his breath. Gladio will never get tired of that sight, not in a million years.

“Specs. Eos to Specs,” Noct calls.

“Hi,” Ignis says. That’s how Gladio knows Ignis is _really_ good—he doesn’t use words like ‘hi’ unless he’s out of it in the best way.

“I’m gonna have to carry his ass back to the room, aren’t I?” Gladio asks. He finally feels like he won’t topple over if he stands, so he does, easing his body from between Ignis’s legs. Gladio reaches towards Ignis and urges him to sit up, winding an arm behind his shoulders; Ignis leans most of his weight on the arm Gladio has braced against his back.

“You’ll be doing no such thing,” Ignis murmurs.

Noct leans in close and places a hand on the side of Ignis’s neck. “Hey, Specs, I need to hear you say you’re okay.”

“I’m quite alright,” Ignis insists. Gladio’s still bearing most of Ignis’s weight, however.

“Sure thing,” Noct agrees, pulling Ignis to him for a leisurely meetings of lips. Gladio grins as Ignis hums in the back of his throat, his eyes closing, his body going even more slack in Gladio’s arms as he and Noct exchange a series of gentle, languid kisses.

It takes some maneuvering for all of them to get dressed, but they do. The Captain of the Crownsguard part of Gladio has a few reservations about using emergency passages to get back to the royal quarters, but the tired and sated part of him doesn’t give a shit. They’re almost back to their room when Ignis speaks.

“Astrals. Who’s responsible for _cleaning_ that chamber?” Ignis asks, suddenly aghast, head perking up from where he stands—is supported—between Noct and Gladio.

Laughter, bass and tenor alike, echoes through the hallway in response.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading. Comments and kudos are always appreciated if you enjoyed! <3
> 
> Come find me living the Gladiolus Amicitia appreciation life over on [Tumblr](http://aliatori.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AliatoriEra).


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